


L O Y A L T Y.

by redhouseboys



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: AND GAY, Angel boys, Birthdays, Cuddles, Fluff, M/M, SO GAY, Tooth Rotting Fluff, a teeeny bit of angst, this is mind numbingly fluffy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2017-10-01
Packaged: 2019-01-07 11:09:58
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,819
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12231627
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhouseboys/pseuds/redhouseboys
Summary: Keith slumps, and his eyelids flutter as he falls into a  cloudy, warm limbo between asleep and awake. Just then, he feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Hey there, sleepyhead.” Then there’s a kiss to his temple and Keith smiles, making a contented hum in the back of his throat. He leans back into the gentle embrace, nuzzling soft brown skin, scent of cinnamon peaceful and familiar as it overtakes Keith’s senses.“Hi.”———4 different instances of Klance cuddles, each one more tooth-rooting than the last.





	L O Y A L T Y.

**Author's Note:**

> it’s ya boi 
> 
> anyway here is more klance i don’t have a lot to say except this is very gay and once again i wrote it on my iphone notes cause that’s how gay i am 
> 
> wow....another kendrick lamar song for the title??? i cannot believe— 
> 
> here’s some very very fluffy klance cuddles for y’all! 
> 
> as always, comments and kudos mean the world to me <3

**1.**

Keith feels torn asunder by the latest battle, his limbs sinking like petrified gravity. Exhausted, he takes his helmet off and rubs his eyes, unable to fight back the forthcoming yawn. 

“Oh my god, you sound like a _baby_ when you yawn.” Pidge pokes him in the side, and Keith scowls at her, though the intended venom has been sapped from his tired throat. 

“Shuddup,” he says, then yawns again, an unmistakably high, small noise, and Pidge snorts. 

“I stand by my earlier statement,” Pidge declares, before taking off her own helmet and sauntering off to her room so she can shuck off her armor. 

Keith slumps, and his eyelids flutter as he falls into a cloudy, warm limbo between asleep and awake. Just then, he feels arms wrap around his waist from behind. “Hey there, sleepyhead.” Then there’s a kiss to his temple and Keith smiles, making a contented hum in the back of his throat. He leans back into the gentle embrace, nuzzling soft brown skin, scent of cinnamon peaceful and familiar as it overtakes Keith’s senses. 

“Hi,” Keith mumbles in response, opening his eyes and craning his neck to look back at his boyfriend, who seems just as drained. God, that battle had bled the energy clean out of them, left them with nothing but lethargic blood. “You smell good.” 

Lance laughs, though it is less boisterous than usual due to his sleepiness. “Are you serious? I must be super sweaty after that battle.” 

Keith turns around in Lance’s arms, pawing weakly at his chest. “Sweaty boyfriend.” 

It feels like Lance’s heart is on fire at the tiny sentiment, and he smiles, wide and lazy and warm. “That’s the name, don’t wear it out,” he jokes. “Does that make you sweaty boyfriend number two?” 

A grimace comes over Keith’s face, and he pouts. “M’not sweaty,” he protests. 

“Are too.” 

“Am not.” 

“Are too—“

And then a sloppy, slow kiss is being pressed to Lance’s lips. Keith’s mouth moves soft and lazy over Lance’s, and it is beautiful, a tranquility to it that brings all final traces of adrenaline down to a plane of gentility. When Keith pulls back, he’s smiling. “That shut you up.” 

“Wow, rude.” But Lance, too, is grinning, stretching his face like elastic. A pause, and then, “can we sleep now?” 

Keith nods, though it takes him a moment to process this, and he grabs Lance’s hand, intertwining their fingers. The blue paladin’s heart skips a beat or two; he’ll never get used to the feeling of Keith’s hand in his own. There’s something stunning and earth-shaking about it that will never die. 

When Keith has finally pulled them back to his room, they both enter and start stripping off their armor, opting for cozy pajamas instead. Lance wears a blue t-shirt and matching pajama bottoms with little sharks printed on them. Keith swims in one of Lance’s sweaters, drowning in sky-like fabric, and a pair of boxers. 

The two settle into bed, and Keith immediately curls up against Lance’s chest, burying himself in a tantilizing inhale of cinnamon and soft cotton and boy. It’s so peaceful, a stark contrast to the tense, blistering screams of battle earlier, and Keith adores it. He’s so lucky he has this. 

Lance begins to gently run his fingers through Keith’s long, soft hair, scratching soothingly at his scalp. It is such a small, loving gesture that Keith starts to melt. He makes a noise that sounds almost like a purr, and Lance chuckles, the cadence fond and sweet as honey. 

“You’re so cute,” he says to Keith, “especially when you’re all sleepy.” 

“You’re cuter,” Keith responds, and Lance blushes, smiling like an idiot. 

“Oh baby,” Lance sighs, pressing a feather-light kiss to the top of Keith’s head. “I love you so much.” 

“Mmm, love you too,” Keith hums, and neither of them will ever get tired of saying those words—not to each other. Each time that it’s whispered into the crook of a neck, against lips, spoken over the comms in the face of near-death— it feels new, a spark of something raw and beautiful ripping through their chests at lightning speed. 

A bit longer and then they’re both out like lights, curled around each other, heartbeats melded together into one solid, steady soul. 

 

**2.**

It is one of those days where Lance’s hands won’t stop trembling. One of those days where he feels like the world is twisting air around its fingers and holding it just out of reach, too high for Lance to grasp, not even with sharp gasps and whimpers. 

One of those days where Lance’s head is full of _replaceable_ , with _insignificant_ , with _worthless_ , _stupid_ —

So it is after dinner that Keith, a worried crease in his brow, quite literally picks him up bridal style and carries him to Keith’s—well, _their_ room.

“What are you doing, mullet?” Lance asks, his voice too distant and sad to be as playful as usual. 

“Taking care of you, doofus,” Keith replies, and it is such an intimate and quiet whisper that Lance feels himself start to settle. 

Gently, Keith sets Lance down on the bed, and gets in beside him. He is propped up against the pillows and he holds Lance in the welcoming center of his embrace. “Talk to me,” he says, brushing his knuckles over Lance’s left cheek. 

Lance swallows back the bile threatening to rise. “I...it’s the same old stuff, Keith, no big deal. You’ve heard it all before.” 

The red paladin frowns, now cupping that same cheek in his palm. “Hey,” he murmurs, “I don’t care. Talk to me anyway.” 

And Lance cracks, melting under the loving heat of Keith’s soul. He spills everything, every insecurity, and the whole while Keith just listens, rubbing the pad of his thumb over Lance’s cheek, shushing him and guiding his breathing when his voice tumbles too high and too fast. 

Once he gets it all out, Keith lets the air filter and clear until he finally speaks. “Do you wanna know something?” 

“Hm? What is it?” Lance sniffles. 

“I don’t think this team would survive without you.” 

The world seems to tilt and Lance gapes, like a wide-mouthed fish out of water. “Are you serious?”

“Of course I’m serious. I wouldn’t lie to you, Lance.” Keith brushes away a hot tear that falls from the corner of Lance’s eye. “You’re always making sure we’re okay, taking care of us, encouraging us. We would fall apart if we didn’t have you holding us together.” His lips quirk up into a fond smile. “And we’d be lost without your sharpshooting skills, too.”

Lance’s face is hot, both with tears and a flaming blush that paints his skin red. Keith, he notices, has gotten better with words over the years. They’d been dating for a while now, and ever since, Keith has started to pick up the things Lance loves, the kind of things Lance needs to hear in moments like these. For a while, it was just some awkward advice that didn’t completely resonate, though it was comforting alone that Keith was trying. But now Keith’s words are truth, sugary eloquence that makes Lance’s chest lighter and full of air. Keith has really grown as a person in every way and Lance is immensely proud. 

“Keith...thank you,” Lance whispers, not quite healed, but a bit more at peace now. 

Yet Keith doesn’t stop there. No, that’s not enough love—Lance deserves more, always has, Keith knows. So he intertwines their fingers and brings the hand up to his lips, raindrop kisses falling on each of Lance’s brown knuckles. “You’re so pretty,” Keith breathes, gently touching Lance’s cheeks, the middle of his nose. “Did you know you have some freckles here? If you look really close?” Lance shakes his head—surprisingly, he’s never noticed. “Well, they’re...really cute. I love them.” 

“And your eyes,” Keith continues, not letting Lance cut in or protest one bit. “So blue. It’s the only thing that reminds me of what the sky looks like back on Earth.” The fingertips of his free hand brush over Lance’s lips and Lance kisses them sweetly, which makes Keith’s heart jump. “And the way you sing in the shower. It’s annoying but also kinda lovable. Even though it makes me want to kill you when you start singing Taylor Swift.” 

Lance laughs, leaning further into Keith’s loving touches. God, he loves this boy. He loves this boy more than words can ever comprehend. 

“I’ve never seen a person so beautiful in my entire life, Lance,” Keith says, breaking the momentary silence. His voice is a gentle flame, a hearth full of love, embers cracklings with sweet nothings. “Not just your—your looks but your soul. Your intelligence. Your laugh. Your...everything.” Keith is blushing, getting a little embarrassed by the outright sentimentality he’s displaying. It just makes Lance giggle and weep at the same time. 

“Keith.” Lance throws his arms around Keith’s neck and buries his face in the crook of his shoulder, kissing his collarbone. “Keith, Keith, Keith.” 

“Lance,” Keith breathes, rubbing the boy’s back in calm, even strokes with one of his large hands. 

They lay there like that for a while, kissing every inch of each other—cheeks, foreheads, noses, lips, shoulders, hands—and just breathing, breathing, breathing. 

Lance doesn’t feel so worthless anymore. Not when someone so utterly stunning and inimitable sees so much beauty in him. 

 

**3.**

Lance has only seen Keith cry two times in his life. 

He knows that Keith is a crier—that, he’s aware of. But it is in front of other people where he forces the porcelain to stay glued together, even when tiny shards begin to crack despite his efforts. Even in front of Lance, sometimes. In fact, he barely cries in front of Lance, and Lance hopes, with everything in him, that one day Keith will feel safe enough to spill his tears whenever he needs to, to let the waterfall burst while in Lance’s arms. 

That day has yet to come, and Lance won’t force it. But every time, he has to at least encourage Keith to trust. 

Today is Keith’s birthday, October 23rd. The team has a huge surprise party planned for him. Allura and her mice have prepared a special birthday routine, Hunk has whipped up a real cake with some ingredients he’d found on a planet that had somewhat earth-like food, and everyone else has pitched into to get Keith presents, even though they’re...sort of weird alien stuff, but it’s the thought that counts, right? 

When it’s time for dinner, Lance helps a very exhausted, quiet Keith to the dining hall, an arm around his boyfriend’s waist as he guides him. As they arrive, Keith observes that the lights are off, but before he can begin to theorize why, they snap on in a blur of color and the whole team jumps out from behind the table. “SURPRISE!” 

There’s a sloppy banner taped to the wall that says “HAPPY BIRTHDAY KEITH!” It’s unmistakably Shiro’s handwriting, which is ridiculous because Shiro has the worst handwriting Keith has ever seen.

Lance turns to Keith, his smile a stunning supernova, teeth surviving glitters of space dust. “Happy Birthday sweetheart!” he exclaims, squeezing Keith’s hand. “Do you like it?” 

But Keith is frozen. There is an unreadable expression on his face, and he takes in the scene with wide eyes and parted lips, shaky rise and fall of his chest betraying his attempt at composure. 

“Keith?” Lance asks worriedly. “Are you...are you okay?” 

The rest of the team seems just as concerned, and Keith can barely take it. Shiro steps forward, reaching out a hand. “Keith, it’s okay,” he says, a steady calm that would usually settle Keith instantly, but now Keith is still as frail and frightened as a deer in the headlights. 

“How—how the hell did you know it was my birthday?” 

The words would’ve been expected if they weren’t spoken with such...malice. Pidge rubs the back of her neck. “I...might’ve peeked at everyone’s records and written down all their birthdays because I love birthdays.” 

“Yeah, and I suggested the surprise party,” Hunk says, holding up a plate of those shiny blue cookies. “Cause, you know, I thought it’d be fun!” 

Keith shrinks, breaking his hand out of Lance’s grip and stepping backward. “Look, this is—this is nice and all, but I...I just can’t.” Lance looks at him, his heart seizing. There’s that look on Keith’s face, that _I want to cry I need to cry I’m going to cry I have to get out of here before I cry_ look that Lance knows all too well. 

“Keith...” Lance reaches out for him again, hand open and warm. “What’s wrong? There’s something going on. Please...let us help.” 

Keith’s eyes go cold then, and he yanks himself away. “Just leave me alone and have your stupid party without me!” Then he storms off, leaving the team in utter shock and disbelief as they watch him go. 

Lance is frozen before time catches up to him, and he speeds after Keith, stumbling. “Hey, w-wait!” he calls, running to catch up to Keith. The boy has stopped in a distant corridor, is curled up on the floor in a ball, attempting to shroud himself in shadows. But Lance can spot those brilliant violet eyes from miles away. So he comes up and sits down beside Keith, cautious, so as not to scare him. 

“Keith,” Lance begins, rubbing the boy’s knee. “You know we’re just trying to make you happy, right? I’m...I’m sorry if this upsets you.” 

“Shut up, Lance,” Keith manages, but there is little force behind it. Instead, it has the cadence of constriction, like the words have been forced past a cataclysm of water. “You didn’t even do anything wrong. It’s just me.” 

Lance sucks in a deep breath, calming himself before he reaches very softly for Keith’s hand. Keith lets him, squeezing his fingers tight. “Keith, love,” Lance whispers, stroking the back of Keith’s hand with his thumb, “please. Tell me what’s going on. Just—just _cry_ , Keith. I promise, it’s okay.” 

Keith’s lower lip trembles, and he bites it hard enough to draw blood. Chest filled with broken fragments of heart (breaking for Keith, for his pain), Lance uses his free hand and tilts Keith’s head a little so they are eye to eye. Keith’s eyes are glassy, threatening to spill at any moment. “Baby,” Lance echoes. “If you need to cry, please don’t do it alone. I..I’m here.” 

And Keith bursts into tears, suddenly clinging to Lance, fingers buried in the boy’s shirt. “I’m sorry,” he gasps, “I’m so sorry. You did something really nice and—and I’m sorry.”

“Shh, it’s okay,” Lance soothes, happy that Keith is letting things out, yet pained by the sounds of those broken, almost childlike sobs. “We understand, Keith. We do.” 

Silence, for a long while, nothing but Keith’s quiet, sputtering sobs, the erratic pulse of his chest. Then finally, Keith surprises Lance when he chokes out, “my mom left me on my fifth birthday.” 

Lance frowns, holding Keith tighter, tighter, tighter. He buries his face in Keith’s hair and presses kiss after kiss there, desperate and passionate and loving. “I’m so sorry, baby,” he says. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

“No—no, it’s not your fault,” Keith gasps, hands still twisted in the cotton of Lance’s baseball tee. “I just—I guess my birthday is a trigger or—or something? God, it’s so stupid, I’m so stupid...” 

“No.” Lance pulls back and holds Keith’s face in both hands, his eyes so full of honesty that it seems to burn cold right down to Keith’s bones. “No, Keith, this is not stupid. You’re hurting because somebody you trusted left you. That’s okay, Keith. It’s okay to feel hurt and to express that hurt. Especially around other people who care about you and wouldn’t judge you for a second.” He kisses Keith’s forehead. “I’m so sorry she did that to you, Keith.” 

“It’s oka—“

“Because I would never.” Lance’s tone is fierce with love, with mind and heart and soul poured into each word. “Keith, I swear on my _life_ that I will never, ever leave you.” 

Keith sobs again, holding onto Lance tightly. “Don’t say that,” he chokes out. “It’ll just make it harder...” 

“No, it won’t,” Lance promises. “Because I’m not going anywhere where you aren’t, Keith. Not if I have a choice.” 

“Lance...” Keith cries, his body shaking as he becomes overwhelmed with the ferocity and seriousness of Lance’s love. “Lance...please don’t go...” 

“I won’t, baby,” Lance promises. “Never, never ever. I’m yours _forever_ , Keith.” 

Keith sniffles and picks his head up, eyes wide with awe. “F—Forever?” 

“Forever.” 

Keith’s lips are wet and clumsy when he kisses him, so desperate that it’s more of a smash of lips against lips than an actual kiss. But there is something immeasurably beautiful behind it that speaks volumes, a future cradled in the corners of their lips. 

“Thank you, Lance,” Keith whispers when he’s pulled away, his heartbeat steadying. “Thank you so much. I...I _love_ you.” 

“I love you,” Lance repeats, with so much sincerity it makes Keith’s stomach flutter. “Always. Always, Keith.” 

Keith leans forward and rests his forehead against his boyfriend’s. “I...I should apologize to the others.” 

“You know what else you should do?” Lance implores, and Keith silently waits for the answer. “Enjoy the party with us. Don’t...don’t let your mom take this day away from you anymore.” 

“Lance, I...I don’t know...” 

“You have a new family now, Keith.” Lance kisses his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his forehead, then last, his lips. “We’re your family. And we want to celebrate you, because we’re so, so happy to have you in our lives.” 

Keith is so touched, that he caves in, agreeing to go back and just test out the waters. Lance smiles brightly and helps him up, letting him calm down a bit more before making it back to the dining room. 

“Hey! He’s back!” Hunk exclaims, smiling and rushing to give Keith the biggest, tightest bear hug. “You okay, buddy?” 

“Y-yeah,” Keith replies, unable to stop the smile that graces his lips. “Thanks Hunk.” 

When Hunk sets him down, Keith fiddles with his hands, unable to look them in the eye. “I’m...really sorry, guys. I freaked out because...I have bad memories associated with my birthday, I guess.” He sucks in a deep breath, lets it out nice and slow. “But I..this is really nice of you. And I want to—I want to try it out.” 

Allura claps her hands excitedly. “Oh, Keith, we’re so happy for you!” she says. “Come, sit. The mice have been working on a special routine just for you.” 

Keith can’t help but smile at that, and he comes to sit down, Lance beside him. He pulls Keith into his arms so they’re sitting in the same chair, and Keith doesn’t care how uncomfortable it is. He sits there and watch the mice’s very impressive routine while eating Hunk’s delicious cake, laughing with his friends—his _family_ —and, best of all, cuddled up with the love of his life, with his forever.

It’s the best birthday he’s ever had. 

 

**4.**

It is dark and still. Lance thinks that Keith has fallen asleep by now, so he is surprised when Keith speaks, his voice small and gentle in the blue glow of Altean tech. 

“Hey, Lance?” It is tentative, almost nervous. Lance continues to pet Keith’s hair as he was, but turns his azure eyes to Keith, lulled by the beautiful lilt of his voice. 

“Yeah?” Lance asks, smiling down at him. “What’s up, babe?” 

Keith seems to swallow down something heavy, and he busies his hands by tracing patterns on Lance’s chest, little hearts and swirls that always make Lance’s skin tingle and his heart fuzzy. “Have you, um...” he stammers, “have you ever thought about—about marriage?” 

Lance’s answer is immediate. “Of course I have,” he says. “Getting married to my soulmate, having a huge wedding with my whole family there, eventually having a bunch of little Lances running around...why do you ask?” 

Quiet. Lance can hear the forced steadiness of Keith’s breathing. “Lance, I meant—“ and his voice breaks with a fear and anxiety Lance knows too well, the build up before an inevitable let down— “I meant marriage with...with me.” 

Then Lance’s eyes widen, and he feels like he’s piloting Blue through a glistening belt of stars, basking in soft moonlight, dancing in crisp rainwater. He feels his smile get so big, his heart so open and quick and wide, that he can barely contain all the love inside of him. It bursts out in rivulets of tiny kisses to Keith’s face, and Keith can feel the smile against his cheek, so wide that it hurts. He lets out a breath of relief and his heart picks up this time for a completely different reason—love. 

“Are you—Keith Kogane, are you _proposing_?” Lance says, his voice dripping with a sweetness and excitement that is so _Lance_ it makes the otherwise dark room feel like the brightest place in the entire world. 

“I mean,” Keith stutters, face bright red, “when you put it like that— I guess...yes?” 

Lance hugs him so tight Keith almost feels like he might squeeze the life out of him, but eventually Keith melts into it, forehead touching his boyfriend’s. 

“Yes!” Lance says. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes! Oh Keith, sweetheart, _angel_...”

“You’re so gross,” Keith laughs, but leans in to kiss Lance either way, smiling into the kiss so that their teeth clack awkwardly against each other’s. “Big nerd.” 

“Hey, this big nerd is officially your fiancé,” Lance says, wiggling his eyebrows. “Respect me, you emo!” 

Keith shoves his shoulder playfully, rolling his eyes. “You know what, I take it back.” 

“No!” Lance exclaims, pouting. “Come on Keeeeeiiiith. You know you looove me, you want to maaarrrry me~”

“You’re not making things any better for yourself—“

“Keeeeeith!” 

Keith laughs again, but this time it is loud and pretty, a bubbly sound that fills Lance’s chest with warmth and when the hell did they both start crying? 

“Fine, fine. I re-propose.” 

“And the re-answer is yes!” Lance says, smooching Keith on the lips. 

Keith’s heart is a whirlwind of emotion. He buries his face in Lance’s chest, sighing contentedly at the way Lance’s arms coil around him in return. Lance is so warm. So beautiful. So _Lance._

“I love you, Keith,” Lance whispers. “Forever, remember?” 

Keith sniffles, grabbing for one of Lance’s hands—and the feeling is just as electric as the first time, and every time after that. “Forever.”


End file.
